Tam Dao Tales

The Tam Dao range from our Hanoi window

Tam Dao means Three Islands and that's what the mountain peaks are meant to represent as they float through the swirling mist. Late last week, after a rather energetic sound and light show over Truc Bach Lake, followed by the heavy pounding of tropical rain, we saw Tam Dao from our front window. That Saturday it had reached about 38 deg with about 80% humidity so seeing Tam Dao reminded me that that was to where we should try to escape.

This weekend we are here- in Tam Dao- 90 km distant NE from Hanoi. 1500 m in altitude and a million miles from care. We've been sipping hot chocolate on the terrace overlooking one of those horizon swimming pools that seems to melt into the rain forest. The pool is now crowded with noisy but fun small Vietnamese children as their mothers hover round, telephoto lenses at the ready, to capture prepubescent smiles. It's so good to see Vietnamese faces in hotels that 15 years ago where the sole confines of westerners.

Across the top of the range, snippets of fog are threatening to cover the long range view. And it's cool. We have escaped the hot and humid weather of the delta just as the early 20th century French population did and built Tam Dao. The Viet Minh destroyed the provincial French dwellings but, like phoenix, Tam Dao is rising from the ashes and a wider demographic is enjoying the pleasant hillsides.

A chook tractor at our hotel

All over Tam Dao people grow a green leafed vine somewhat like a pumpkin leaf in box frames along terraces. It taste great and is called Su Su. There's also lots of beehives, and honey for sale. Outside the bedroom window at our hotel this morning we heard a piercing sound a bit like a chainsaw...which was actually a bird in the forest. Apparently there are over 300 species of birds in the vicinity. Just below our window, the su su gardens spread like small fingers into the forest itself. There's a gushing pounding waterfall just close by. What a beautiful place Tam Dao is!

Cutting Su Su for market.

Celebrating a century: this week is the anniversary of my father's birth.

This week my dad would have been 100 years old! I've been thinking back about his life, his contribution and what I've learned from my dad. Dad (Walter Thomas Furniss) was born in 1910 to Jessie Lavinia nee Dayhew (1882-1959) & Frederick William Furniss (1879-1963) and grew up in Auburn a suburb of Sydney. The first of a family of seven children and the elder twin, he didn't finish high school or go to university. His early working years were during the time of the Great Depression. He stayed with the NSW Government Railways for 49 years. Because he worked in an essential service, he didn't go to war in 1939. Mum (Edith Isobel) and dad met at a dance and not long after they were married Dad got a transfer to Harden in rural NSW where he ran the NSWGR office. He rode a bicycle to work and during the family part of his life, never owned a car. He and mum had three kids (Helen, Roger and Elaine). That's me in the middle. Have I changed? I don't think so!

They played tennis and cards, joined the local Anglican church (neither of them were Anglican) and the golf club and Dad grew vegetables. In fact I remember just before he died at 72, his papaya trees, grown from seed, produced their first fruit. When the kids reached school age the family moved to Westmead, into a housing commission house, which mum and dad eventually bought, and added to at the back. Dad (and mum) always said we can't give you much money but we can give you an education. And they did.

I remember that when we had radio serials at school, Dad would scour second hand bookshops to buy the book in question. He fostered in us all a love of reading and a curiosity about the world. Compared to mum, dad was quite reserved and introverted. You would often find him in the lounge room in his Van Treight armchair book in hand and listening to to radio, or out in the lean-to shed that served as a place for tools and seeds.

What do I remember most about Dad? Well he was a good and persistent gardener and I think that my sister and I have garnered those genes! He loved to read and would often suggest to us books to read.

He also loved to travel and every year we had a holiday in a different place, thanks in no small part to the free travel provided for railway employees. Mum and dad came to the US for my masters' graduation and they and my sister and I travelled around the states and Canada together. I'm sure dad would have loved to have visited Michael and me in Hanoi this year and to have gone to last night's Brahms concert at the Hanoi Opera House. Dad may have been quite shy but he was not retiring. He loved to find out about how people did things and why.

We all learned a few odd sayings from dad. If he was annoyed he'd tell you to 'go and bite your back', and we were somewhat in dread if mum said, 'if you don't watch out I'll tell your father'. That sometimes meant the leather shaving strap in the bathroom was soon to be slapped around someone's legs. Not fun!

After mum died, dad became quite a good cook. I won't go into the story about lifting the lid on the pressure cooker to see if the marmalade jam was cooked. (But it didn't take too long for him to cover the ceiling with acoustic tiles!)

Ours was not a family where a lot of emotion was shown; there weren't lots of hugs and kisses. However I do know that dad (and mum) worked hard for our well-being and much of what we have experienced as adults is in no small part due to love, care and provision.

Dad had a beautiful writing hand as well and always used a quality fountain pen. Thanks dad and happy birthday!

PS You can see the family tree here:http://familytreemaker.genealogy.com/users/f/u/r/Douglas-C-Furniss/PDFGENEO3.pdf

Eat to see the bowl, walk to see the way.

Eat to see the bowl, walk to see the way.

Last time we were in Vietnam, this adage, Eat to see the bowl, walk to see the way, was left on our pillow one night at a new hotel in Hue. We don't always eat on the street even though it's mostly very good. and rat ngon or very tasty. In fact the only times we've experienced tummy troubles has been from western restaurants. Most of the time now, the food comes from our own kitchen.



The space is small, but with the help of Hoa Binh ( always aghast at how much we pay for any small morsel) and two new cookbooks (one a gift from Helen before leaving Australia, another purchased at Bookworm, Hanoi's English language book store on Pho Yen The), we're eating well!

Yesterday, I cooked Eggplant with Tofu

Ingredients
3 T olive oil
1 piece ( about 500gm) of tofu drained and cut into slices
half a chopped onion
3 tablespoons soya sauce
3 tomatoes peeled cut into chunks
1 small hot pepper, (I skipped this)

2 long skinny eggplants, cut into 1-inch cubes
a handful of muchrooms (here they are quite exotic, longstemed with a frilly end)
half a kohlrabi, cut into small pieces

4 or five spring onions, coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons Ha Binh's tomato paste ( or something inferior if you can't get this!)

Directions
1 Boil tofu for 20 to 30 minutes then cool and cut into slices
2 Heat oil in pan until very hot. Stir fry tofu in pan until brown on all sides. Set aside. to cool.

3 Stir fry onion ,until soft then add soya sauce and 1T water, along with tomatoes, eggplant, mushrooms, kohlrabi, green onions, and tomato paste and simmer for about 10 mins, or until vegetables are soft. Add tofu and continue cooking until tofu is heated through.
4 Serve with rice.

Last night at the supermarket I found Tapioca and have made creamed tapioca with starfruit in a mango coulis for dessert today. Who needs Master Chef!

One of the things I find interesting about eating out in Hanoi is that you share your meal with absolute strangers. Being an extrovert, I find that wonderful.

On the corner of our street is a small outdoor breakfast cafe serving noodles. During the day, the space just adjacent is used for repairing motorcycles. We haven't eaten there but perhaps Vespa soup might be quite nice!

Early morning discoveries

Early morning discoveries

Sometime between and 5.00 and 5.30 most mornings we dive out of bed, and down the 65 stairs to the bottom of our building and get out in the fresh air with all the other early birds..and there are lots of them! This morning we passed a beautiful old French villa, walked down a leafy avenue past people getting restaurants ready for the morning meal and crossed roads filled with people carrying fresh food and flowers to their respective shops and markets.

We even walked past the Cua Bac Cathedral which I passed several times getting lost a couple of weeks ago.

After watching the flag raising ceremony outside Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum we walked past people making funeral wreaths from tiny flowers.

We stopped for a morning sua chua ca phe da (yoghurt coffee with ice) and then walked around the Botanic Gardens where we came across any number of aerobic and dance classes.

THEN

We bumped into Mme Tien from the UNICEF office 13 years ago and went back to her house for mangosteens and a long chat. Her husband, Le Thanh is a famous artist and we have one of his oil paintings on silk at home in Australia. It was good to catch up with an old friend. Mme Tien walked us back to our apartment and stayed for a longer chat. It was a good morning. I'm glad we walked that way today!

After the storm

This morning just as Michael was about to set out on foot to work, it started to pour! Now I have to say, rain takes on a new meaning in Asia. None of those pathetic little piddles we call a shower back home on the farm. This is real rain. And it leaves its mark. Michael got a message to say don't bother coming to work until it's stopped raining. It didn't take much for him to agree to that. When the rain stopped the fisher folk were out in force.

Yesterday, as with most weekends and after work, the lake was filled with swan boats: the sort that require masses of cycling to move from one side of the lake to another. They are beautiful to watch but I think I won't be having a go. People say it's one of the few places young couples can escape for a bit of courting in solitude. all the exercise sounds like a high price to pay!

Next to ginger ice cream I've decided the best food in Hanoi is a wonderful fruit called Mangosteen. Wow, heaven in a fruit. After our morning peregrinations around the lake we retire to the upstairs eyrie for mango smoothie, or a passion fruit one. Now we're having yoghurt ice cream ( homemade) with fruit. Mangosteen is definitely my favourite.

Nesting on Pho Tran Vu, Truc Bach Lake

These are some images of our new nest high above the trees on Tran Vu Street, overlooking Truc Bach Lake in Hanoi. The apartment is 65 steps up and sits above a small coffee shop on the south side of a small lake. It takes about 45 mins to walk around the lake (we hope to do this every morning and did walk this morning).

Basically the apartment is a studio and it's a sublet for 4.5 months. so we haven't had to buy anything to get established. That's good.

Hoa Binh came with a meal to welcome us to our apartment and helped us clean the kitchen. We haven't shopped much but I intend to cook in the very small kitchen.

Fortunately we have books and dvds left from the real tenant so we will be able to relax and enjoy the place. The view is wonderful. Can you see the fisherman on the lake in the centre image? It's fun to be back in Hanoi!